


Extending the Burden of Duty

by Bodldops



Category: Amelia Peabody - Elizabeth Peters
Genre: Especially not Sethos, Honestly they can't go one season without crime, No one believes their protests anymore, They're really trouble-magnets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bodldops/pseuds/Bodldops
Summary: Sethos once promised to never harm Amelia when he learned she would never be his.  As her family grew, this promise had to be extended.  As they came to accept him as family, it somehow stopped being a burden.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sumeria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumeria/gifts).



While not overly prone to excess sentimentality, I believe, I feel it is fair to say that as I have grown older, the importance of family has grown as well. Of course, this may rationally be attributed towards now having a family worth appreciating. My dear husband, Emerson, is still as brilliant, forceful, opinionated, and ruggedly handsome as he was the day I met him. My son, Ramses, no academic slouch, having cost me many pains while bringing him up, has grown into a man I feel no mother would disapprove of. Nefret and David, while not children of my own blood, still a daughter and son of my heart. Little Sienna, an unexpected addition to our lives a few years ago, is such a joy and delight I cannot imagine our lives without her. Of course, one cannot be universally so lucky – my brother's side of the family has been quite lacking in moral fiber, culminating in the traitor Percy, who has reaped his just rewards for his cowardly and cruel behavior.

And now, another, unlooked for. For so many years I believed – as did Emerson! – that my husband was an only child. When the tragic tale of his half-brother’s existence came to light, it was only the extraordinary circumstances that allowed us to believe the truth – that Sethos, the Master Criminal with whom we have crossed swords so many times over the years, was in fact family! Of course, at the time we had believed that he had heroically given his life for his country. He cannot be blamed for encouraging this belief – as a highly effective spy for his native England, there were a fair few who would be overjoyed to exact revenge for their defeat after the war. I had heard of a fair few of them. After all, those same people would be overjoyed to lay hands on my son, for much the same reasons.

When Sethos re-appeared in our lives, it was unclear if he meant to form any lasting attachment to the family as a whole. While he has been very frank about his feelings concerning myself, he has always been less effusive towards Emerson and the children. At times they have even been direct rivals... or at least have felt themselves so, I believe, though my loyalties have never been in question. It does make for a bit of a mess, however. After all, animosity of years is not so easily or naturally overcome, no matter how mistaken the source.

Still, I believe that with time (and in no small part due to his – surely now familial! – attachment to my own person) he may yet become a close part of our happy little family.

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**Manuscript H**

“So, just out of curiosity… how long do you plan to go on hanging there?” The laconic voice that drawled down the not-quite-narrow-enough stone shaft was not that of David, much to Ramses’ dismay. nor was it his father - his father wouldn’t be so calm about the whole thing, more likely to be shouting curses and encouragements in the same breath. As for the other options, most of the workers on site wouldn’t be using English, and Marthers – the new artist father took on – would have employed quite a bit more shouting and a whole lot more panic.

Ramses craned his neck back to try and get a good look at whoever was shouting down to him, but all he could see was a dark form silhouetted against the bright sky above.

“Longer than I’d like to, evidently.” He returned in kind, since there really didn’t seem to be a lot of options, really. “I don’t suppose anyone’s found a rope?”

The bridge they had built over the pit had been sturdy, he was sure of it. He and his father had overseen construction, and been across it any number of times. Honestly, the only excuse he could think of that it came apart today was sabotage. He was only glad that it wasn’t his mother, or Nefret, walking the bridge when it finally gave way.

Of course, he wasn’t exactly enjoying the experience, gripping an outcropping stone with his fingertips and trying not to think about the drop below his feet.  
“No,” His somewhat lackadaisical would-be rescuer replied, “Though I thought, with those post-holes as good as hand-holds…”

“If I had that good of a grip on the wall, I wouldn’t be still down here.” Ramses grumbled. Certainly, he knew there were ancient holes carved into the rock above him… Heavens knows he’d tried to find them for the first few frantic minutes, but the only wall face he could reach was disappointingly smooth.

“Well, if I must. Amelia would be so terribly annoyed with me if you fell.” And with that, Ramses knew who his rescuer was. It almost made him want to ignore the coil of rope dropped on his head out of sheer spite. Somehow his uncle had managed to be one step ahead of him once again, and managed to play the hero. It really was astounding just how annoying that was.

It was a trial, accepting Sethos' help, and he half-expected the rope to go slack in his hands when he grabbed at it. He’s probably being unfair, but at that moment he didn’t feel particularly like being fair. The shift from foe to friend to family had been swift, unexpected, and rather emotionally fraught. He felt it was fair to have some reservations still.

The rope held tight, and Ramses clambered out of the pit with good speed.

“Don’t glare at me!” His uncle groused, though the tone was teasing and amused. “Still so suspicious. You have to admit; this kind of sabotage is hardly my style.” Ramses refrained from glowering, because his uncle was absolutely correct. He would have never done such a thing in his days as the Master Criminal… especially not in a location where Ramses’ mother might be the one injured. Rames acknowledged the point with a nod, dusting of his slacks and noting, with resignation, that his shirt had gotten a tear in it during the excitement. His hat was probably at the bottom of the pit somewhere.

He peered down into the pit carefully, and sighed.

“You know, I hear some archaeologists go through entire seasons without criminal activity.” Behind him, Sethos laughed.

“Don’t worry your head about it, I’ll have the fellow before the day’s out.” His uncle promised, and as glib as it sounded, Ramses was certain the promise meant nothing good to their newest ‘nemesis’. The scoundrel had put mother in danger, after all. Ramses arched a stern look at him.

“No example-making.”

“If you have a problem with it, catch him first.”

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**Letter Collection B**

My dear Lila,

The most extraordinary thing happened the other day. You must promise to keep quiet about what I am about to tell you – if the family should hear of it, they’ll only fret. Ramses knows, of course. As if I could keep anything hidden from him.

You know the hospital keeps me overlong at times – there's so few qualified to help, sometimes there’s just more work to be done than I can possibly get to! It was just such a day, last week, right after I’d sent off my last letter to you. I was later getting out than I’d planned, and the sun had already set. Normally, this would mean Ramses would be skulking about somewhere nearby waiting for me, but that night he had an appointment – I’m not supposed to know it was to refuse yet another offer to re-join that ‘Great Game’ he hates so much, but… well, you don’t think he could keep anything hidden from me?

Now, of course, normally this wouldn’t be a problem. After all, Father has been terrifying the locals for years, never mind the rest of the family – especially Mother with her parasol! I had my knife as well, so I really wasn’t frightened when a hand came out of the dark and grabbed my wrist. The poor fellow must have been quite desperate. I would feel sorry for him, if he hadn’t tried to waylay me.

I would have settled the matter myself, but suddenly my attacker was yanked away with some force. After a brief and remarkably violent scuffle in the shadows, I was approached again. With Ramses unavailable, I knew who it was without having to see his face. Father would have come in roaring, and Mother would have been as fierce as a lioness, with her little gun and her parasol. If David wasn’t with you dear, I might have suspected him, but only one other man of our acquaintance moves so.

Of course, Uncle Sethos took my acceptance of his presence as a matter of fact. I have never seen the man become flustered. Instead, he offered me his arm as if we were in the middle of Shepherds. He did not, however, offer any explanation as to why he might be hanging around the hospital waiting to come to my rescue, only that sardonic look of his as if daring me to mention it.

I didn’t of course. Instead we spoke of our Christmas plans – I’ve invited him to Mother’s party, and Father could hardly protest me doing so, could he? You’ll have your chance to see him then, and you can tell me what you think of him.

I hope you and David are having a lovely time, and I will be there to meet you (as will we all) at your train at Cairo next Thursday.

Faithfully,

Nefret Emerson

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"There you are, almost gave up on you." Emerson grumbled from his makeshift lookout from the only patch of shade around - a half-crumbled wall of a not-terribly-interesting Roman ruin. The man he spoke to, an older fellow, Arabic, who appeared to be a trader or merchant of some sort, shrugged and took a seat in the remainder of the patch of shade without asking.

"I'm not late. Or were you just so anxious to see me, brother?" The accent was English, and the tone was just shy of openly mocking, enjoying Emerson's answering growl of discomfiture. "Ah, no matter, I am here now. You know, those children of yours are just as reckless as you are."

"You're twenty years too late for that to be news." Emerson pointed out, dryly. He doesn't add, though he could fairly, that such reckless behavior is more Amelia's folly, not his - how many times has she nearly done herself damage trying to track down criminals of all sorts in poorly thought out disguises? He didn't add it, because very often that criminal was the man sitting beside him now. He wasn't really in the mood to hear any reminiscing about the 'good old days', or to hear any comments about his wife. "And you're getting off track. What's your news?"

"Impatient." Sethos laughed shortly, stretching out his long legs. "I don't suppose you brought any bran... no." He chuckled again at Emerson's expression, stopping short of actually enraging the man into a tantrum. "Yes, I think I've found the culprit. It seems that rogue who beat Ramses to the punch and married Nefret a few years back had a friend. One who feels there's been some injustice done in the matter... though how anyone could be quite that clueless, I'm not entirely sure." While Sethos could understand a grudge, this one was entirely ridiculous.

Besides, seeing it through would upset Amelia, and that was beyond the pale.

"We'll have to trap the scoundrel into a confession. Perhaps..." Emerson paused, musing, rubbing a the cleft in his chin. Sethos rolled his eyes and pushed himself back up onto his feet. 

"Not the God-forsaken beard again, I won't have any part of that. If you want a public confession, catch him yourself."

Sethos declared, brushing off his robes. Emerson watched his half-brother warily, sapphirine eyes glining.

"No example-making."

For some reason, Sethos found this command hilarious.

"If you have a problem with it," Sethos retorted as he began the trek back towards civilization, "Catch him first."


End file.
